“It seems to have been a summer of both good and bad.”
Judge Baylor had a flair for the theatrics. We stood there, a captive audience, awaiting our fate.
“The good I see in both of you now far outweighs the bad. And that tells me that making noise about this or putting you in jail for a few nights”—he peered down hard at us both—“might not be the right decision. So, your punishment will be time already served along with a day of community service performed together. I’m thinking a beach cleanup would be just the thing.” He glanced up at the clock on his wall. “And Mr. Miller, your car better be on the 9:30 am ferry off this island.”
Turning to me, he said, “Ms. Brooks, since there was no harm done, and nobody got hurt, I will allow my initial decision to transfer your remaining hours to Nashville to stand. I don’t want this to set you back on a life where I assume you’ll do far more good than you did last night. This is all unofficially official, and if I see you back in my office anytime soon, I won’t be this nice.”
I blinked at his dismissal. His speech hovered in the air like a cloud before it rained over me.
Over my parade.
His punishment had been better than anything I could have dreamed up. He’d been kind and generous. He gave me the out I needed.
So why didn’t it feel right?
My entire life, I’d been afraid of mistakes. I’d made choices based on what others deemed fit for me. I created an entire life out of an illusion. My dad’s happiness wasn’t on me anymore. Nobody could make a man like him happy. It wasn’t about me. And it never had been.
Did I want to teach?
Yes.
Did I want to teach in Nashville?
No.
The word created such a visceral reaction the moment I allowed myself to think it. Relief poured from my body as I dared to let go of every expectation I’d put on myself. Every expectation I’d allowed others to place on me.
This summer with Dax had been about more than a court sentence. It had given me space to slowly reconstruct new dreams for myself. Dreams that involved more people and less studies. More time spent teaching and less behind a computer. A dream of raising children on the same island I loved as a child. And spending time with a brown-eyed man with a teasing smile who had become such a part of my life that I couldn’t let go if I wanted to.
And I didn’t.
Suddenly, my direction was clear.
Dax had stood and was shaking Judge Baylor’s hand.
“Your Honor.” My voice was strong and clear, cutting into their low voices, like a woman who knew exactly what she was doing. I didn’t have any clue what I was doing, actually, but I did know what I felt, and when a girl feels like that, she doesn’t go to Tennessee.
He and Dax looked at me.
“Yes?” Judge Baylor said.
I drew in a breath as I fought to find the words. “I’m not sure the punishment fits the crime.”
Dax gaped at me slightly as I realized how bold my statement was. Holy crap. The ways this could backfire on me were countless, but I wasn’t stopping now.
“What do you mean?” the judge asked, a perplexed expression drawn on his eyebrows.
“Well, Your Honor, I’ve been pretty bad.”
We could have heard a pin drop for how quiet the room became. A part of me wished I would have tagged a building so I could have had more things to add to my summer resume, in case he needed proof. An accidental DUI, violation of my probation, TPing my dad’s house, and an illegal driving spree felt like it needed one more thing.
But alas, I kept going. “And I think I need to stay here and deal with my consequences.”
Dax stood still, watching me with a knowing, bemused expression that melted me into a puddle.
Understanding lit the good judge’s face. He glanced back and forth between Dax and me and chuckled.
“I applaud your sense of conscience, Ms. Brooks. I can’t say I saw that coming, but…” He glanced at Dax. “Maybe I should have.”